Whenever my husband doesn’t want to eat what I’ve cooked, or if I decide not to cook — he either eats cereal or mac and cheese. From the blue box. On a blue plate.
This picture was taken because he didn’t feel like eating the chicken I so often cook. I don’t remember my mother ever cooking macaroni and cheese. Spaghetti, yes. Chicken on Sunday, meatloaf once a week.
In fact, the meals were pretty predictable when we were growing up. When Dad retired, that changed. He took over some of the cooking. I left home three months after graduation, so I didn’t go through some of the interesting food choices my siblings did.
I got divorced when I was in my mid thirties, and lived with my parents for most of a year. Dad was still cooking, and we ate a LOT of beans. 🙂